Burning Inside
by Springheeled Jack's Devil
Summary: So, this is a story of the origins of Epidemic chara Blaine, Echidna, and Albert E Bola! ThraxOC, and don't judge a fanfic by it's summary! This is total OJ coolness, and is rated T for Violence/Gore and SLIGHT lemon
1. Chapter 1

**Hi OJ fans!**

**This is basically a fic about how Blaine escaped from the evil Virus Exploration facility, which I will explain in the authors note at the BOTTOM. I am also (stealing) introducing a new female virus! She's one of the lesser known viruses of the Epidemic, but probably one of the GREATEST. Her names Hepatitus Echidna, and she works and kills with her partner in crime, Albert E Bola. Everything will be explained in later chapters, don't worry :)**

**For all those that don't know, The Epidemic is a Thrax-supporting club on DeviantArt, that has a whole host of viruses for you lovely readers to explore =D**

**Blaine is copyright Umah/MadKittyCat**

**Fox Senor is copyright Umah/MadKittyCat**

**Zeus/Angela is copyright Umah/MadKittyCat**

**Echidna is copyright Chulala**

**Albert E Bola is copyright Chulala **

**And heeeeere it is!**

Blaine's claw hurt. Everything hurt. The most recent slashes on his red, taut skin were already fading, but the brand that had burned his 'name' into his neck still sizzled as fiercely as it had done 10 years ago.

He was in an all white sterilised room. Various instruments of torture lay on a metal table opposite, and as he tossed back a stray dreadlock, he glimpsed the dull floodlight above him. Dormant. Waiting for another torture session. He growled at it from between his sharp teeth, and winced as the tiny exertion of speaking sent pain twisting around his throat. It was only then that he realised that they had sliced the area around his neck violently yesterday.

Blaine Muerte did not belong in a torture chamber. He belonged with his father, Zeus, and his brother Damien, out on the outskirts of some infected body. He still remembered the vivid moment when he had been kidnapped. Gently leaning back his bound head, he allowed himself to remember the most terrifying moment of his life.

_Damien was such an IDIOT, he thought. Such a limp, sad idiot. A ten year old Blaine kicked angrily at a passing amoebae, and it shrieked at him, babbling nonsense. _

"_Yeah, yeah, whatever."_

_He sensed steady footsteps coming up behind him, and sighed. He knew it was his father, coming to comfort or reprimand him. Probably both. The anger flared up for Damien again, and he snarled. Damien and Blaine were twins. They both had sharp, angular faces, red skin, yellow eyes and the dark blue dreadlocks. Like Dad. However, they were as unlike in personalities as they were similar in appearance. _

_Damien was a gentle, caring soul, who only wished to help others. He was his mother's favourite, and had Zeus's compassion. Blaine was violent and vicious, who revelled in others pain and misery. But after all, didn't all viruses? Damien was a loner amongst virus children, who ridiculed him for his nature. A shadow blocked out the burning sun above him, and he glanced upward._

_A surprised shout escaped him as a rough sack was forced over his head, barring light and air from Blaine. Outraged, he struck out at the stranger, his index finger glowing. They blocked his swipes with ease, and he heard them chuckle sadistically. There was an intense pain, a more horrible pain than he had ever felt in his small life, and he realised behind a blur of tears that they had stamped on his little finger, completely crushing it beneath a shoe. A black fog engulfed his mind, and in the gloom of the sack red dots popped before his eyes. The scarlet pools whirled, and he dully sensed being tossed into a vehicle before blacking out. _

And now, at the grand age of 22, he knew what had happened. His kidnapper had a name. And a top secret, virus-torturing laboratory. And the name was Fox Senor. A mergence between two species – virus and cell – had shamed him and he hated all viruses, despite his genetic bloodline of being part HIV. The HIV part of Fox showed in his white, white skin, the blood-red eyes, and the short, sharp claws which a normal HIV virus would use to infect.

Fox, however, had left his mark on Blaine in many ways. Namely torture. The other methods pained Blaine's memory even after all this time. Fox wished to break Blaine's will. But as long as Damien, Zeus, and his mother, Angela, remained fresh in his memory, he would never surrender. He was a Muerte, for God's sakes! However, Blaine could feel inside of him his sanity slipping away, and, try as he might, he couldn't stop his mind becoming slowly numb.

There was a familiar creak, and Blaine raised his head wearily. Fox Senor strode in, flanked by 5 of his security guards. As per usual. Brown coat flapping around his ankles, Fox reached Blaine and that hated face broke into a cold grin.

"Hello, F5."

Blaine winced internally, and his branded name flared in sympathy. F5 was his given 'name' by the scientists, along with the company name VE below. Normally, Blaine would give a cocky, smooth retort, but with this throat throbbing painfully, he could only glare with bright yellow eyes. Fox smirked.

"Cat got your tongue? No matter. I would normally loosen it for you, but today is a very special day, and I need you conscious. Do you know what today is?"

Blaine didn't have a clue what he was on about, but he covered up his confusion with fake smugness, pretending he knew what Fox was talking about, and more.

Fox growled. It didn't take much to set him off. He couldn't stand Blaine equally as Blaine couldn't stand him, and normally Blaine would be writhing and screaming in pain. But for some unknown reason, he was, in his terms, safe. Fox uncurled his fists and grabbed a syringe from a sterilised tray nearby. Often that syringe would be filled with various poisons and on one horrible instance, a tiny, insignificant drop of alcohol, but today a security guard handed Fox a clear liquid, which he poured into the syringe.

Marching up to Blaine, he ground the needle point against a grinder, and then forced the blunt needle into Blaine's neck with a murderous smile. It took all of Blaine's restraint and some of his dwindling supply of sanity to not scream and tear open what remained of his ravaged throat. He needed it to heal, and then he could yell abuse and shout as loud as he could at the grinning Senor that faced him. He focused on that, and, gradually, the pain lessened, but left a stinging sensation in the side of his neck where the needle still stuck.

Fox depressed the plunger, and there was a sudden refreshness to his body. His skin felt fresh, albeit with scars, but there was no bleeding, raw patches of peeling red or still-healing gashes across his skin. His throat had healed instantly, and he found that when he sighed as the feeling spread, there was no hurt at all. In short, Blaine hadn't felt this way in YEARS. His chained claws flexed, and he could feel the precious inner glow of his unused talon rush toward it. After a few jaw movements, Blaine was ready to insult Fox out of his diseased mind.

It wasn't meant to be, and a re-enforced gag was bound bruisingly hard around his mouth. He fruitlessly tried to bite through with his razor-sharp fangs, but, as was the norm, the gag was specially made for him and him alone. Fox often called it his 'dog-muzzle'.

"I bet you are wondering why I've done this. Why I've injected with you with a healing serum – weakened, but a serum all the same. Let me explain. Tonight, I am having a ball. All my colleagues and esteemed funders are invited, and YOU, F5, are the main attraction. You see, all my guests are particularly excited about a certain torture session mentioned on the invitation slip..."

Blaine felt a fear creep into his heart that had not been felt for a long time.

"...and that is why I need you good and healthy! That wound we implanted around your throat, to test on Malaria viruses, had seriously damaged your voice box. We need you to be able to scream! Where's the fun in a silent torture session? Of course, I am far to civilised to address the guests with a 'torture session'. I've called it, well, a live experiment. Just tested on my lowest, most worthless test subject."

Blaine ached to ask what they were going to do to him. His proud resolve was beginning to crumble, and the silent cracks of fear were beginning to appear. Finally, it broke, and he screamed it into the gag, beads of perspiration exploding from his forehead as he struggled against the restraints. Fox was deliriously thrilled at this, but put on a false facade of calm.

" Hmm? What are we going to do to you? We are going to SLICE you upon, show all the guests your magnificent internal system, and then put everything else back in. And when you are begging to be killed, we are going to slowly cut you apart, and sell parts of you a million sugar crystals a piece from your still wriggling body! Doesn't that sound fun?"

Fox didn't hold back on his excitement, and a malicious glint shone in his eyes as he came face to face with the boiling Muerte. None of them had noticed the light had began to dim, and a nervous guard dressed in a plain suit enter.

"Sir?"

Fox whipped round, angry at his triumph being spoiled.

"WHAT?"

"S-sorry to disturb you sir, but the guests are beginning to arrive, and –"

"Shut up, you idiot, I know."

Fox turned to Blaine and grinned.

"So, looks like this is the last time I see you sane! I must say, I won't miss a bit of it. Not the screaming, the torture, the dark autumn days where I would cut away at you and inject various chemicals into your blood stream...all in the name of science! The sound of your blood being spilt on this floor – Oh, wait, looks like I will miss it!"

Fox cackled and waltzed out of the white room, leaving behind Blaine. As soon as the bespectacled madman had left, Blaine went mad. In his mind, he was chasing after Fox, sinking his claws into his pale flesh, ripping apart limbs and clutching in strong claws scraps of skin and muscle. His dark blood Blaine would drink, and his organs would be torn apart from his living body and turned to ash with a touch of a talon. And, for the piesta resistance, Blaine would reach down, Fox's blood staining his red lips, and pluck out Fox's still beating heart...

But this was all in his mind. Blaine screamed in rage, and fought so violently the special restraints almost broke against his tough skin, and he bit his own tongue in his haste to tear the gag. Blood filled his fanged mouth, and he spat it out into the gag in disgust, trembling as it trickled down his sharp chin. With a herculean effort, Blaine turned his head toward the single, barred window in the white bit back a sob as he heard the guests laughing, and inside his broken heart almost stopped beating. Outside, the sun's rays shone red on the cracked earth outside. Blood red.

**So, first chapter! Yeah, a little gory, but hey, this is Blaine we are talking about!**

**If you are hoping for Thrax to appear, don't worry. Blaine and Thrax take alternate turns for chapters until Thrax meets Echidna and well...spoilers!**

**Oh, and any Doctor Who fans out there? Did you see the Angel episode? Freakin' scary man!**

**SJ **

**P.S If you want the chapters longer, review! And don't worry, this is relatively short because it's just an introduction :) **


	2. Chapter 2

**IT'S-A MEEEEE!**

**Big thanks to Destiny-Interwined for reviewing! *chucks mountain of cookies at you* **

**DUCK!**

**SJ  
**

A slim figure dropped from the whirring spitcopter that was hovering outside a large building. Behind the figure came another, larger with a gold pocket watch gleaming in the moonlight. The spitcopter slipped into the night, and left the two alone behind the Virus Exploration laboratories.

The slender shadow stepped into the soft light of the burning fat lamps. Her translucent green hair swirled and flowed down to her back. Her skin was a light, flawless green, and the eyes of the delicate face were a captivating emerald green. She was dressed in evening wear of the subtlest of tastes, and an expensive handbag whose label was to die for hung off her smooth left shoulder. Razor-sharp claws lay hidden under full-length black gloves. Her name was Hepatitis Echidna, and she was beautiful.

Her companion revealed himself also. He was also dressed in formal clothes – a dark suit of impeccable choice, with a gold chain hanging tastefully out of the breast pocket. His face was handsome, his eyes the same yellow as his watch and a strong beak-like mouth slightly curving nobly out of his face. His hair was black and tied in a ponytail, a few strands flopping attractively over the forehead. He seemed to glide instead of walk – a curled tail lazily propelled him forth with impossible speed. A monocle balanced in the socket of his eye, and he seemed to be in his late twenties, or early thirties. His name was Aldric C Faire, and any normal cell would've run until they couldn't run any more at the sight of him.

Echidna smiled at him, her dazzling white fangs bared, and leaned forward, brushing her soft lips gently against his cheek.

"Just in case anything happens," she grinned. Her voice was smooth, bordering on seductive.

Aldric returned her smile.

"My dear, do you really think I'd let you in there without any surveillance?"

He reached down and attached an almost microscopic black clip to her right ear. It hung there like an ordinary earring.

"This will record anything you see and hear in that place. Remember – go in, disable the alarms, and then signal. I'll get the prisoners –"

"We," she interrupted. Aldric gave her an exasperated look.

"Too dangerous."

"Come on," Echidna let her fingers walk across his shoulders until her arms were round his neck, her face mere centimetres from his. Her voice had changed, and was now a soft promiscuous whisper. She traced circles on the back of his jacket, still purring into his ear.

Aldric weakened in her soft grip.

"Fine. Don't expect me to pick up your bloodied remains when one of those half-mad prisoners swipes at you."

"Dangerous. Just the way I like it."

He felt her smirk into his shoulder, and then she withdrew. Aldric carefully straightened his collar, dusting down the exquisite suit. He was an aristocrat, after all. With a sly backward glance, Echidna strolled languidly into the building, the flaming brands either side of her casting shadows across her face.

Manning the entrance doors were two bored guards. Both red blood cell, so they had a lot of muscle on them. Echidna hid in the wall around the corner, and slipped the stylish bag off of her shoulder. Giving a wary glance around, she rummaged through and picked up a purple canister. Carefully aiming, she pressed on the nozzle. A fine mist of lilac clouded the unsuspecting guards. Immediately, their shoulders loosened and dreamy smiles spread over their faces.

She gave a smirk, and strode out of her hiding place, heels clicking on the hard floor. They slowly raised their heads at the sound. She gazed into their eyes and saw a film over their eyes – the distortion spray had worked. She tapped the slight bulge in her bag, smiling. The distortion spray was a liquid secreted from the cranium – it dealt with movement and co-ordination. A little tinkering and with Albert's scientific skills, and the liquid was now the complete opposite. It momentarily confused the nucleus, and any movements made were clumsy and distracted.

Taking the liberty of removing the guns from their belts as well as their communicators, she tossed them aside, only keeping a plasma gun hidden in the confines of what now seemed to be a bigger-on-the-inside handbag.

"Thank you, boys." she said, slipping past the sleepy pair and boldly entering the laboratory entrance hall. Seeing the spectacle in front of her, even glamorous Echidna had to stare. The high-ceilinged hall was carved with images of viruses wreaking havoc. It seemed to be split down the middle, because whoever had painted the ceiling had also drawn brave, heroic faces on the opposite side – the cells of the body – whilst the viruses and various others had snarling, ugly faces.

Everything else was gold or silver, and fancy decorations adorned the walls and floor. A string quartet played in the corner, and waiters manoeuvred between the masses of high-class guests milling about in the hall. In short, it was a scene from a century long ago, with modern cells dressed in the finest dancing and talking beneath a facade of vintage style. A waitress passed by, and held out a tray of vol-au-vents with flavoured glucose toppings. Echidna tried hard not to wrinkle her nose at the 'cell' food, and politely declined.

Casting a look around the room, a twinge of worry passed her. How was she going to find the prisoners – or even disable the alarms – in a place this big? She wondered if the Virus Exploration people actually moved from body to body. She shivered at the thought of being trapped in the same man forever.

"Cold?"

Echidna turned to see a smiling virus looking at her. His skin was white, his eyes red, framed by glasses of the same colour. He was wearing a deeper red kerchief round his neck, and a dark brown suit. He'd probably swapped it from his usual wear, because he looked a little uncomfortable. The virus radiated the need for power. _Hybrid,_ she corrected, taking a second look. Was this Fox Senor? Time for introductions then. She fixed him with a shy, interested gaze and pretended to hurrily smooth down her already glossy hair.

"Hardly. This hall is perfect in every way."

She made her voice sound seductive, and moved slightly closer, so he could smell the perfume on her skin. It was all the old play again. Make him feel flattered. Act bashful. Then sweet-talk him until you're his number one guest. It worked. Fox Senor's smile widened and he took her wrist in his hand, sweeping a kiss across her knuckles.

"I can think of one more thing like that."

Echidna's smile grew a little strained. What a creep! She giggled anyway, and he looked pleased. He proffered his arm, and she took it. He began to dance with her, and she had to admit, he could dance.

"So," he said. His voice was tinged with huskiness. "What's your name?"

"Serena Lymph."

That name was actually on the guest list. The truth was, the real Serena Lymph had been running an illegal prison for germs/viruses that damaged the immune system and, on a raid for new recruits, and Albert and Echidna killed her and took her invitation to the party at the VE. The original plan was to be someone higher in respected society, but there was no way Echidna was posing as someone whose name was 'Maude Faecal'.

"Well, Serena, I've noticed you don't look exactly...cell-like."

Echidna smiled. Long days spent rehearsing plausible questions asked had trained her for this. She put on a pained face, and pressed herself closer to him so his arm was almost a vice around her waist.

"It's too shameful. I daren't talk about it."

"You can talk to me. I won't tell."

He flashed her a wily grin, and she nearly ruined it all by laughing.

"W-well I suppose I can talk to _you_."

Fox dipped her, and she clung on to his neck so their faces remained close. She felt something on her leg, and she realised with a concealed feeling of disgust he had placed his hand lightly on her calf.

"You are right – I'm not a cell. Not entirely, anyway. I'm half and half..."

She tightened her features in mock horror.

"I'm part Hepatitis E." She spat out the name as if it was poison, although inside she couldn't be prouder. She also knew this ploy would work. If there was anything Fox would sympathize with, it was the issue of being a hybrid. Fox's face softened, and she knew she had him.

"Oh Serena, I know, I know. You see, I'm a hybrid too...although I suspect you've guessed that already."

Echidna bit her lip. It might've looked like sympathy to Fox, but she was really, really trying hard not to laugh. The string quartet finished one piece, and the crowd applauded. She joined in too, with Fox like a magnet at her side. Once the next part started, Fox leaned over and whispered in her ear.

"Come. There's half an hour left until the grand finale."

He slid an arm around her waist, and she pretended to hesitantly take his. Guiding her through the onslaught of guests, they reached a door. If Fox Senor wasn't there, she would've guessed it as one of the plain, ordinary doors dotting the border of the hall. Fox smiled at her, and then tapped in a code. The numbers flashed on the screen and also in her mind, memorizing them. The screen slid up, the keypad sliding sideways, and there, concealed under, was an ordinary lock. Noticing Echidna's puzzled expression, Fox laughed.

"Don't you worry, Miss Lymph. In case of any criminals raiding – or escaping – the laboratories, I keep this locked. But as you see, it is not as simple as it seems."

He slotted in the key and twisted. The door remained still, but in the corner of her eye, Echidna realised that a secret door, one painted exactly the same colour as the stone wall and probably made of the same stone as well, was rumbling open. It was in the most shadowed corner of the hall, and just out of sight from the chatting guests. She looked impressed.

"Fascinating. How did you -?"

"Let's not talk about mechanics now. I've got something to show you."

The now-familiar arm slipped around her back, and she walked with him through a corridor of doors. It was pristine white, and as they entered, the door rumbled to a halt behind them. She jumped, and he smirked, his hand warm on her bare shoulders.

"Scared, Miss Lymph?"

The fire of rebellion flared inside her.

"Never. Bring on the lab rats."

Fox looked at her strangely. "I never mentioned any subjects down here."

Echidna went cold. Had she blown her cover?

"You have a very sharp mind, Serena."

She breathed out in relief. No more slip-ups. They continued walking down the rows, and she got a feeling it wasn't just equipment lurking behind the bolted doors. He opened the eighth door on the right, and ushered her in. What she saw made her blood run cold.

Held to an operating table with thick, heel-skin straps was a virus. A TB virus. His white hair was tied back, matted with blood. The slitted eyes, normally blue and bright, were bloodshot and the irises were ringed with black. His red lips were pulled backwards in a snarl of pain, the albino skin ridged with cuts. And worse. Echidna knew this virus. His name was Artemis, and they'd met on a sugar-crystal bank spree that resulted in a friendship. Not close friends, but close enough. And here he was, stretched out and bound like an animal, his blood pooling on the too-clean floor.

Abandoning all pretences, Echidna doubled over and retched. There was a cooling hand rubbing her heaving back, and she didn't look up in the risk he saw the hate bubbling in her flashing eyes.

"There, there Miss Lymph. It is a bit bloody yes, but it will be killed. It can't hurt you from where it is." Fox looked scornfully back toward Artemis, who was watching Echidna through a veil of tears. There was no recognition in those once-sparkling depths.

Echidna realised he thought she was sick because of the abomination, the 'virus', being so close to her. A haze of red obscured her vision. _Concentrate Echidna! _Albert's voice drifted in through her ears. It was imagined, but his image re-woke her senses, and the reason why she was there. She needed to act. Fast. Choking back bile, Echidna looked Fox straight in his eyes, and attempted a wobbly smile.

"Yes – Yes of course, you're right. Any more pathetic germs you can show me?"

Fox grinned at her, and she felt her claws threaten to burst from her knuckles.

"Only the most dangerous for you, my dear. But first, I have something to do with this lab rat. His fluids are not useful, and none other of his body parts have been found compatible for medical reasons. I'm afraid this one's useless. Only one outcome for that... "

He crouched down behind Artemis's half-dead figure. The torn, bruised face made an effort to face its captor. Already it knew what was coming. With a vicious blow of exposed white talon, Fox slashed open the tuberculosis's chest. He cried out in pain as what remained of his life left him, and every moment of Echidna's forced laughter tore her heart like those horrible talons on her dead friend's skin.

She was suddenly observing Fox's every move, listening to his every word as they left the room. In his time of death, she would use the motive of his actions to kill him as painfully as she could. She was shown into another room, and another, and the five rooms she visited passed by like a blur. They were all the worst viruses in the facility, according to Fox. She didn't see any more familiar faces. All she saw was red blood, desperate, broken faces, and gaping wounds that were magnified by the glare of the floodlights shone on them. Two of her virus brethren ended up in the same way as Artemis, both by Fox's merciless hands.

By the time they were nearing the last door, the fabric of the gloves was torn where the points of her fingers had dug into her palms, and where her claws had occasionally scratched the surface in bursts of emotion. The arm slung casually around her waist was as heavy as a belt of enamel, the voice that whispered endearments and spat virus names the speech of the devil. Fox halted in front of the most heavily locked door.

"I wonder..." he murmured. Echidna had remained quiet in fear of screaming, but curiosity overcame fury.

"What?"

"This virus is particularly special. He, in fact, was the grand finale."

Fox drummed his fingers on his left arm, thinking it over. Echidna pushed down her rising gorge, and placed a hand slightly shaking with restraint on his arm. Her eyes became pools of melting emerald.

"Please?"

Fox gave in like putty in her hands. He glanced at his watch, a tatty cheap thing compared with Albert's solid gold timepiece.

"10 minutes until my other guests are allowed down here. My, 20 minutes go by fast, huh?"

_20 minutes? That's all the time I have left? SPIT!_

Fox pressed his hand over a buzzing scanner mounted on the wall. A plasma machine gun suddenly unfolded from the ceiling toward Echidna, and Fox irritably waved it away. As if alive, it retreated back in.

"She is granted access. Please, say your name into the mouthpiece."

Echidna complied, and the ceiling resealed itself.

"That machine gun was obedient," she observed. Fox turned to her, his hands sliding back bolts.

"The lining of the brain from a brain cancer cell is a wonderful thing. Inanimate objects respond to it as well as having their own life. I sold only 3 capsules of the stuff – a brain cancer cell is excruciatingly hard to catch, and very rare. It means moving from this body to another." He shuddered, and Echidna laughed silently at his discomfort.

The door swung open with a click, and he grinned at her.

"Miss Lymph?"

She stepped into the darkness. Fox closed the door behind them, and flicked on the lights. She saw the numerous firearms pointed at the virus before the virus himself. She felt something push her forward in the small of her back, and she realised Fox had resumed his hold on her waist. She made a mental note to slice that off first.

The virus in that room was different. One, the security on him was tenfold. Secondly, the chains locking him in place each had an nerveotronic lock secured where they looped into the vertical board he was hung on. Thirdly, was his appearance. He was _amazing._ Blue dreadlocks hung beside bowed, red head of angular features and scarred skin. Yellow eyes burned like embers above a gag shoved cruelly into his mouth. Even though they were covered, Echidna did not doubt sharp teeth were in that bound maw.

Astonishingly, even compared to the prison he lived in, the virus had a muscled, lean torso and enough strength in those arms to snap an enamel girder. Claws curved down from his hands, the little finger of his right hand snapped, but to compensate for his lack he certainly had a weapon – a long talon as his index finger, dormant, but still intimidating. Scars criss-crossed across his entire body – deep slashes, along his spread-eagled arms, marking his clamped legs. Certainly more than any other virus she had the displeasure to have seen that night. Unbeknownst to her, Fox had signalled the guards out of the room, and was slowly advancing on to her.

"Disgusting, isn't he?" Fox purred, his breath tickling her neck. The hand gripping her waist travelled upward to skim across her bare shoulders, pulling her even closer. And then, abruptly, _kissed her. _It was as brief as it was sudden, his mouth pressing hard on hers for only a moment, then drawing away, looking instead at the virus on the wall with a mocking smile spread across his face. Echidna couldn't help herself – this monster, this heathen, had imprisoned a once-powerful virus, tortured him, insulted him brazenly in front of her, and then dared to KISS HER? Fire burst in her blood, raw anger drawing the claws from her knuckles - and she lashed out backwards in the form of a well-aimed kick into her violator's groin.

Fox Senor let out a shout of pain and shock, then crumpled as she swung her fist directly at his head. His pupils shrank, becoming tiny black dots surrounded by the dulling red. She beamed in response to his horrified look, then, very deliberately, peeled off slowly the thin, false layer she had been wearing over the various, gleaming green scales that were scattered over her brow and cheeks. It did not make a massive difference to her appearance, but the meaning to him was clear – she was no hybrid.

"Night night, Foxy!"

And with a triumphant smile, kicked her stylish heel into his outraged face. Fox's eyes rolled up into his skull, and he promptly fell unconscious. Allowing herself a moment of elation, Echidna rifled through his pockets, pushing to the back of her mind how Aldric would react to this. Finally, her fingers closed upon the passcard hidden in Fox's inner breast pocket, and she turned to face the virus on the wall. The yellow eyes that had before been burning in hatred at the sight of her being at Fox's side, were now widened in incredulity, staring wondrously at her mysterious form.

Echidna's face softened. This poor virus probably had no idea what was going on. Walking up to him, she hesitantly removed the gag from the virus's mouth. The virus spat a globule of blood out, then, working out the cramps from his jaw, he turned to her.

"Who are you?" he said hoarsely.

"My name is Hepatitis Echidna. I'm here with – a friend. We came here to find out what was going on here at the VE (and thank God we did) and now I'm set on getting you all out of here before I blow this place to pieces. Don't worry about Fox Senor – that bastard will be out for hours now. I haven't killed him – yet. What about you? Your name?"

"Blaine. Blaine Muerte. They called me F5 here."

She tilted her head approvingly. At least he had a name.

"Well, Blaine. I'm guessing that those locks holding you are nerveotric, and probably need, I don't know..."

Smiling coyly, she held up the rectangle she had found in Fox's pocket.

"A passcard?"

Blaine, for the first time in years, grinned in genuine humour.

"Now you're talkin'."

**0_0**

**REVIEWWWWWWWWWWWWWW 3  
**


	3. Author's Note!

**Ok everybody. **

**Next chapters are coming up soon, don't worry, but this is something a LITTLE different...**

**There is an author on fanfiction, who is probably the saddest, most idiotic person who has insulted and degraded both me and a friend of mine on here. **

**She is in fact 13, but parades herself as an 18 year old named 'Amy Mcdonald'. **

**She has two accounts – Crazedfan1997, and Writer1992. My friend xPPx had been continually abused by her comments, and now she has turned on me. **

**Please go to this author and try and talk some sense into her – I'll doubt you'll get far, but enough is enough. **

**SJ**


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